you’re magnificent and I’m a piece of shit with no understanding of how this world works – I’ll smoke a cigarette, maybe the smoke will make my lungs feel the way you once made my heart feel and this emptiness will drift out with what I’ve filled myself up with, maybe I’ll blow it in your face the way the world blew up in mine. hopefully it’ll take your breathe away till you suffocate.
suffocating doesn’t seem too bad when you’ve been dead your whole life but you don’t know how that feels, do you? lucky little boy with a lucky little life filled with everything you could ask for but nothing is ever good enough for a narcissist with a mind that fights you till you fight someone else. How foolish of me, I called that love. The bruises looked so beautiful to me, it made the suffocation feel like home –
My therapist said that I find home in every depreciating joke, every boy that hurts me, every drug that makes me fly. He told me that I’ve lost myself because my love isn’t alive. It’s buried in between my thighs.